


Tales From The Bunker

by Baibaba



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Domestic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-29
Updated: 2013-03-29
Packaged: 2017-12-06 20:21:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/739722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baibaba/pseuds/Baibaba
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel’s room has weirder shit in it than what the Men of Letters have packed away in vaults and warded crates.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tales From The Bunker

Castiel’s room has weirder shit in it than what the Men of Letters have packed away in vaults and warded crates. It’s not that Dean goes in Castiel’s room all that often. But there are times where Dean has to, not Sam because apparently his little thirty year old brother has no housekeeping skills, go in and change the sheets and pick up anything that might attract rats. He hasn’t seen any rats in the bunker so far, but that doesn’t stop him from setting out a few traps. The bunker is underground and rats, from what he’s seen on television, like the dark and the dank and that means mystical underground headquarters.

And corpses. There haven’t been any dead bodies in the bunker. Yet. And if there’s one thing Dean can count on, dry spells don’t last long with the Winchesters.

Castiel’s room seems to change every time Dean has the occasion to go in. Being an angel and able to fly all over the world to places where even people haven’t migrated to yet is the best reason Dean has for what he finds. It’s not that he’s poking around, trying to untangle the mess that is Castiel and solve the mystery of why the little angel that could is the way he is. Although if Dean were being perfectly honest with himself, an activity that he has been participating in more and more frequently, he knows why Castiel is his Castiel. And according to Sam, that’s fine.

_That’s fine._

Castiel has nothing to hide from Dean anymore and Dean is pretty much an open book except for a few pages he may have glued together.

Privacy is the word. And that is the word that has justified him putting a lock on his door. After 80-odd years of existing, Dean is pretty damn excited to have some genuine private time.

Castiel though, when he is at the bunker taking some down time from playing heavenly hunter, keeps his door open. It’s more of a storage locker than an actual room, definitely not as cool and awesome as his. Castiel doesn’t really do anything in his room as far as Dean has noticed. Doesn’t listen to music like Dean or lie around on a bed watching every Harry Potter movie in a row like Sam.

Apart from the time Dean had introduced Castiel to his room, Dean hasn’t seen Castiel actually _in his room_.

Showing Castiel his room had been like pulling teeth, something Dean is intimately familiar with. Literally. And trying to convince that, _yes, Cas, this is your room, you own it, no you cannot have the one across from mine that’s Sammy’s, the walls are that thin, I can hear you, really I want you to have a room, you’re family, Cas, take the room, no we can’t share mine,_ and so on and so on.

Dean would have preferred pulling out a molar or two if it hadn’t been for the soft ‘thank you’ Castiel had given him. He didn’t think the heat from his face would ever go down. It had been embarrassing.

Castiel does spend the night sometimes, a few days every week or so, a problem Dean is working on. Castiel isn’t exactly welcomed in Heaven and he can’t keep running around the globe forever. He’s going to run out of angel mojo and Dean doesn’t want Castiel to be stranded in the Amazons. Although Castiel has assured him that he is ‘quite capable of surviving in less than modern societies’.

When he does spend the night, it’s in Dean’s room. Usually sitting on a chair reading a book or playing with his phone. Sam had bought him a few apps and Castiel has said that he’s very ‘fond’ of Doodle Jump.

A few times he’d sit on the edge of Dean’s bed. And Dean only knows this because there’s an indent that’s not his or Sam’s or a ghost’s. Dean had decided then to not tell Castiel about the memory foam.

It’s usually around this time when he thinks that maybe he should admit to Castiel that Dean’s room is also Castiel’s. That really anything Dean owns is Castiel’s and this included his favorite Black Flags shirt and the Impala. And if Castiel wanted to lie down in their bed instead of the one in the practically-a-storage-room, then he could. It’s not like Castiel acknowledged the lock other than the cursory ‘a deadbolt would be safer’.

Castiel never really understood the whole ‘privacy’ thing.

But Dean is mostly glad that he isn’t sharing a room with Castiel. Castiel’s room changes so much and is filled with things ranging from pottery from Zimbabwe, Sam somehow knew this and Dean had held back the ‘college-boy’ that was on the tip of his tongue, to animal pelts hanging from wall to wall that Castiel had been given as a gift from a very nice couple in Northern Russia as a thank you.

Dean had used up a whole Febreeze bottle then. He could still smell the furs. If he could pinpoint the stench, he’d say it was ‘death’ and ‘vodka’.

It was a confusing mix.

Dean likes the way his room is and he doesn’t think he could be sane with Castiel nailing old cobra skins to the wall one day and the next having boulders bigger than the Impala’s trunk fill the room.

That time Castiel had explained that he liked the looks of the rocks and that Sam had told Castiel that he should decorate however he wanted to.

The only thing to stay the same in Castiel’s room is the wall that Dean and Castiel share. The first time Dean had seen it, the collection was spare and he had been tempted to throw it out. He had thought it was trash. Some weird quirk Castiel had picked up from someone who wasn’t a Winchester. The wall was lined with wrappers from gum to fast food. There were characters from languages Dean had never seen and brands he had never heard of. A few Japanese ones that reminded him of Bobby.

It made him wonder if Bobby had ever travelled to Japan and if he had liked it.

There were a few hamburger wrappers that Dean recognized. One from a diner he and Sam had taken Castiel to when he had lost his powers in the apocalypse. That diner had had the best fried chicken steak Dean had ever experienced.

It had grown since then and Dean quotes Sam here because his brother did say it best,

“It’s kind of ugly, but I like it.”

And Dean had agreed because it was fugly, but he did like it. It was pretty in a way. And it made him feel a little better to see where Castiel had been and that maybe he wasn’t miserable and was enjoying himself out there in the world.

That after seeing and experiencing practically every culture the human race has to offer, Castiel still finds his way back to the bunker and back to his room next to Dean’s. And Dean doesn’t think the clench in his chest will ever go away.

And it really is embarrassing.


End file.
